


More Stories to Tell

by dan_vs92



Series: More To Series [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Stan's a bad baby sitter, Trans Male Character (Fiddleford), inappropriate stories to children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dan_vs92/pseuds/dan_vs92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan has a habit of telling his five year old nephew stories that aren't appropriate for a child to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Stories to Tell

Summer had hit them with full force this year, Tate lay on the floor coated in a thick layer of sweat and glared over at his uncle in his underwear reclined on the only piece of furniture in the living room with the fan pointed directly at him. His uncle was so lucky, he got to dress however he wanted, neither of his dads would let him run around in his underwear. He could barely hear the TV over the loud rumble of the fan so he pushed himself up and climbed on top of his uncle. Stan wore the same annoyed expression he always wore but it became more aggravated when his well sized nephew began squirming on him in his effort to get more comfortable.

“Ya want something, kid?” he grunted out, the annoyance become more pronounced on his face the more the child left in his care twitched and squirmed on him, elbowing him more than once on his unprotected stomach.

“I’m bored Uncle Stan,” he pouted, arms folded as he leaned into his uncle more blocking the fans air flow. He had a scowl on his face that his parents swore up and down he learned from him but if you asked Stan it looked more like the face Ford made when he didn’t get his way.

“Well go do somethin’ about it,” Stan sneered his nephew’s way poking at the little boy’s chubby stomach (his papa Fidds defiantly feeds this kid too much he was getting an impressive sized belly on him) making him squirm more shoving at his uncle’s arm, the pout turning into a brighter smile the more he poked his ticklish area.

“Tell me a story,” he said in a commanding tone he was also told was somehow his fault. Fidds was one to talk, he saw the way he shoved sweets down the little brat’s face to keep him ‘healthy’. 

“Fine, whatever,” Stan grumbled after another attack to his poor stomach from the active child’s elbow. He picked the child up and sat him on the floor, Tate’s face lighting up. He scrambled across the room to his toy chest and hurried back to his uncle and shoved his toys on his chest.

“Act out your stories like you did last time!” Tate could be a very bossy child when he wanted to be, hands on his hips in a manner strikingly similar to his papa when he was reprehending one of the Stan twins for the usual things (monster hunts gone wrong, lack of safety equipment, Stan’s demon ex-boyfriend almost eating all their souls, the works). Stan rolled his eyes at his bossy nephew but complied, maybe a little puppet show would get him to fall asleep. 

“I ever tell ya about the time me and Rick Sanchez out smarted Rico’s gang?”

“No,” Tate said a smile blossoming on his face as Stan picked up his blue haired troll doll.

“Well Rick here,” he started waving the blue haired troll in Tate’s face, “Got it in his head one day that he wasn’t getting his full cut for sneaking um…’Smile Dip’ into the country and he tells me…” he paused a minute and picked up the manliest doll Tate had in his arsenal, a ripped army man with his sleeves tore off to show his big guns. 

“Um… Stan, I’m the smartest person here, if it weren’t for me all these bozos would be in jail. I say we steal half their ‘smile dip’, all the cash that little ‘punk’ Rico has on him and we flee back over the border before anyone’s the wiser,” he did his best and most mocking imitation of his former friend and temporary lover making the troll doll bounce in front of the manly army man.

—

Nearing the end of Stan’s child inappropriate story (that Stan would later claim in his defense he replaced every word they would consider naughty out for more child friendly word), Tate’s fathers were finally coming up from the lab for a break after spending hours working on what they considered their legacy.

“The next time I saw that blue haired troll, I was getting out of the Cuban prison he’d left me in,” Stan pulled the manly G.I Joe out of the shoe box he had put him in and bounced him over to the troll doll in the Barbie car convertible, “I would have punched that man then and there but when he popped open my glove box and showed me all the money he’d made off that ‘Smile Dip’ I’d risked my life for, I fell in love all over again. Well until he left me in Vegas broke and with nothing but my car the next week.”

“Stanly,” Fiddleford finally asked walking into the room, eye brow raised, arms crossed in that way you knew you were in for it, “Why is that army man right there covered in ketchup?”

Stan smiled sheepishly and Tate happily told on his uncle, “Rick Sanchez had to make him fall asleep for the rest of time to keep his mouth shut. Uncle Stan says lots of ketchup comes out when you go to sleep that long.”

Before Fidds could tear into him for telling his son another story ‘little ears shouldn’t hear’ Ford broke in.

“Rick Sanchez you say?” he inquired and Tate picked up the troll showing his daddy who Rick was, Ford eyed the troll doll and a smile broke across his face, “That certainly looks like that old troll, my boy.”

“Wait,” Stan began a bright smile spreading across his lips, “You know Rick? How?”

“Ford and Rick were rivals back in Backsupsmore,” Fidds began sitting next to Ford who had already taken a seat on the floor ready to bash his old rival in anyway.

“More like enemies!” Ford snapped taking the troll doll from Tate and Tate turned excitedly towards his father for another story, “He almost got Fidds killed!”

“He set things right and said he was sorry,” Fidds sighed out and Stan was getting excited ready to hear this one. Anything involving Rick Sanchez had to be good. 

“You see back in college; Ford was roommates with Rick.”

“And he was always causing problems,” Ford scowled glaring at the troll doll and then picking up the manly G.I Joe, “I would be trying to mind my own business and graduate from that—“Fidds’s glare cut him off, “School that only benefited me because I met your papa there Tate,” he quickly cut in before continuing his tirade, “And he almost got me expelled on three different occasions because of those parties that always ended with something blowing up and the cops being called.”

“So how did he almost get yer boyfriend killed?” Stan asked watching to cut to the chase, this had to be good. 

“Well ya see Stanly,” Fidds began picking up a robot he had hand made for Tate himself, “I always had a weakness for robots and who would have thought gambling with them could be so dangerous.’’

Stan began laughing at that, never in his wildest dreams imaging kind, sweet, law abiding Fiddleford as the gambling type but Rick Sanchez seemed to bring out the worst in people.

**Author's Note:**

> The first two parts of the series were requests from Star Pines 20 on Tumblr ( check out her fanfics here if you like trans Fiddleford: https://star-pines22.tumblr.com/). There are two more stories for this series coming out this weekend.


End file.
